


Stitches

by EmmaArthur



Series: Whumptober 2019 [11]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex Whump, BAMF Alex, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, Kyle is a good friend, M/M, Some innuendo, Stitches, Whumptober, Worried Michael, established malex, injuries, mostly comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 19:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaArthur/pseuds/EmmaArthur
Summary: Alex gets hurt going after alien hunters, and Michael takes good care of him.





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober day 11: **Stitches**.
> 
> As you can see, I was thoroughly uninspired for both the title and the summary. But it was a fun one to write.
> 
> This is set sometime before All Of You (day 1) in the same verse.

“What the hell happened?” Michael exclaims, walking into the exam room. Kyle jumps up from his stool in surprise, and Alex is thankful he's already finished with the stitches and is just bandaging his arm.

“Guerin, you're not supposed to be here−” Kyle starts, but Alex shakes his head at him. There's no point in trying to stop Michael from coming in now.

“I'm fine,” he says.

“Yeah, that's the first thing you said on the phone, which is exactly why I know it's not true!”

Alex sighs. He did start his phone call earlier by trying to reassure Michael, which backfired spectacularly, since he caught Michael at work, completely unaware that Alex had been in danger in the first place. Not that he was supposed to be.

“It's just a few scratches,” he tries, pulling the sleeve of his scrub top down over the bandage Kyle just taped on his arm. Kyle betrays him by mimicking choking, but the sheer amount of blood on the exam table sheet and the pile of gauze beside him would have given him away anyway.

“Alex, you're this close to needing a fucking blood transfusion!” Kyle exclaims.

“And maybe I didn't want Michael to know that!” Alex snaps.

“He's your boyfriend!” Kyle answers, at the same time as Michael takes a wounded expression. “Why wouldn't you want me to know?”

Alex sighs, leaning back against the table. From the very real pain in Michael's eyes, he knows he's messed up, but he's too tired for this shit.

“Hey, Manes, don't fall asleep on me,” Kyle snaps his fingers in front of Alex's face. “You can sleep when you're home.”

Alex struggles to keep his eyes open. “I'm okay,” he mutters.

“If you're this tired, it might mean you do need that blood transfusion and I'll have to admit you,” Kyle says.

“No!” Alex sits up brutally. He gasps at the pain in his side. “I'm not spending more time in this hospital than I have to.”

“Alright, fine,” Kyle says. “But you need to be monitored.”

“I'll stay with him,” Michael offers immediately. “It was the plan, anyway.”

Alex winces. They'd planned a nice dinner at his cabin tonight, a night together that didn't conflict with either of their schedules. They've been taking things slow, only recently going beyond dates in public places. And now he's ruined their night.

“I'm sorry,” he says sheepishly.

Michael pokes his arm gently, away from the cut above his elbow. “It's okay,” he says, giving Alex a small smile to let him now he really thinks it. “We'll still get to spend the night together.”

“Michael, if he gets drowsy or really pale in the next 24h, you call me and 911 immediately, okay?” Kyle instructs. “I haven't been able to completely rule out internal bleeding.”

“That bad?” Michael asks, frowning. “Please, tell me the truth.”

Kyle looks at Alex, hesitant after earlier, knowing that he technically broke doctor-patient confidentiality. Alex nods. There's no point in trying to hide anything from Michael now.

“Fifty-four stitches,” Kyle says. “In three different places. They're mostly shallow cuts, but you could have bled out.”

“You should see the other guys,” Alex mutters, feeling his eyes fluttering close against his will again.

“Other guys, plural?” Michael asks, shocked. “Alex, what did you get yourself into? Hey, stay with me!”

Alex opens his eyes. “Alien hunters,” he says. “I'll tell you later. I just want to go home and sleep.”

“Okay, okay, we'll go. Valenti, you good?”

“Yes, you can go,” Kyle says. “Just be careful with those stitches. And drink some Gatorade, you need to replace that blood,” he adds to Alex.

Alex nods, relieved to be able to get out of there.

“Can you walk?” Michael asks.

“Probably not far,” Alex grimaces. His leg didn't take so well to all the fighting, and the wound in his side is pulling at him seriously.

“Alright, I'll go get the car,” Michael says, backing out of the room.

“I'll help you to the entrance,” Kyle says, grabbing one of the crutches leaning against the back wall of the exam room.

Alex carefully sits up and slides his legs off the table. His arm isn't too bad, though it stings, but the long cut in his right side is throbbing, and he almost doubles over when he tries to stretch his body into a vertical position. Kyle catches him before he falls.

“Seriously, Alex, I would feel better if you spent the night here,” he says while Alex tries to catch his breath.

“No,” Alex shakes his head. “Please.”

Kyle sighs. “Here,” he hands Alex the crutch.

Alex grabs it and pulls it under his left armpit. It's too short for him, but maybe that's for the best, allowing Alex to crouch a little and avoid pulling at his side too much. He probably looks like an eighty-year-old, but it's better than screaming in pain.

Thankfully all three wounds are on his right side, so he can lean on his left without trouble. The trek to the hospital entrance is painful, but not excruciating, and he's had far worse. Kyle stays beside him, ready to help if he loses his balance, and Alex feels a surge of mixed gratefulness and shame. The only people who've ever been ready to catch him when he fell were physical therapists. He doesn't deserve a friend like Kyle.

“Thank you,” he murmurs when they reach Michael's truck, giving him back the crutch.

“You're welcome,” Kyle smiles, helping him into the passenger seat. “I'll be over in the morning to check on you and change the dressings, okay?”

“You don't have to. I can hire a nurse or something.”

“I want to. See you tomorrow.”

Kyle slams the door close, and Alex stares after him. He wonders, not for the first time, why Kyle even hangs out with him. He's popular and social, he could have everything. Is it just because they're both untangled in the alien issue?

He shakes his head at the intrusive thoughts, and turns to Michael, who is watching him with concern. “You'll be okay on the way back?” Michael asks.

“Yeah,” Alex nods. “I'm alright, just tired. And sore.”

Michael starts the car. “Do you want to tell me what happened now?”

Alex thinks about it. He's sleepy, but it would be best to wait until he's home to fall asleep. He knows the fatigue comes from the pain and the bloodloss, and he really ought to drink and take some painkillers before he gives in. “Yeah,” he says. Talking will keep him awake. “I've been watching some conspiracy theorists chat groups on the darknet that sometimes edge really close to the truth, just to make sure they don't stumble on something real. This morning I saw that one took pictures of something that looked really close to your symbol. You know, the one Noah said was a map?”

“I know the one,” Michael says, visibly restraining himself from commenting on the rest. Alex is thankful, because he doesn't think he could stay awake through an argument right now. He tried to sit up a little straighter.

“I hacked into their computer and found their location, and they were in a farm just three miles out of town, so I went to investigate. I just wanted to know where they found the symbol.”

“You didn't think they'd be suspicious that you'd found them?”

Alex shrugs. “Sure, but I thought it was just one person. These guys are usually pretty paranoid, but not violent. I figured I'd make up some story to make it look like I'm one of them.”

“Right,” Michael says. Of course, in hindsight, Alex should have known better than to walk unarmed into the house of a conspiracy theorist. He presses his hand to the bandage at his side, trying to reduce the pain that shoots every time there's a bump in the road, but it only makes him gasp and groan.

“I'm okay,” he says, because Michael seems ready to pull over. “Anyway, there were four of them, and they had knives. I took them down pretty easily, but one of them got a couple of hits in,” Alex shows his bandaged right hand.

“Yeah, I gathered that,” Michael snorts. “How did you get back?”

Alex groans. Michael knows him too well. “I drove. I waited until I was back in town to call the police and an ambulance over there. I'm guessing Max is probably there now.”

“You drove with a cut hand and a wound in your side,” Michael sighs. “That required, how many was it? Fifty-four stitches?”

Alex tries to make himself smaller at his tone, out of an outdated instinct, but he only ends up doubling over in pain. This time Michael pulls over and holds him until the throbbing recedes.

“Dammit,” Alex murmurs. “This hurts like a bitch.”

Michael makes soothing circles on his back. “That's what you get for going there alone,” he says, but his tone is more fond than annoyed. “You know I'd have come with you, right?”

Alex sighs. “Yeah. But you have a job, I didn't want to bother you.”

“Alex, you never bother me. Especially if it's about safety in numbers. Or, you know, fun things to do together.”

Alex sits back carefully and raises his eyebrows. “I can think of more fun things to do than going after conspiracy theorists,” he says.

“Not for tonight, I think,” Michael looks him over.

“Sorry,” Alex says, but with a smile this time. Michael is so good at making him feel better about things, even when he's trying to scold him. That's the main difference between their relationship now and what it was before. They use to be so burdened by their history and trauma that they kept hurting each other with every word they said. Starting over allowed them to truly discover what a relationship without that pain could be.

It took Caulfield, and his father's death, and the huge mess with Maria, to get them here. And a huge effort to be honest with each other and truly talk.

Michael starts the car again, but he keeps one hand around Alex's thigh. Alex closes his eyes.

“Why didn't you want me to know?” Michael asks later, once Alex is sitting on his bed, propped up by pillows. Painkillers, as well as removing his prosthetic, did wonders for the pain, though it's not fully gone. He still moves gingerly, but at least he doesn't feel like puking anymore.

Alex blinks, before realizing that Michael is thinking back to earlier, when Alex told Kyle off for telling Michael how bad his injuries were. He sighs.

“Don't you trust me?” Michael asks when he hesitates for just a moment to long. Alex winces at the tremor in his voice.

“I do,” he reassures him quickly. “I really do. It's not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I just−” Alex hesitates. “I hate having people worry about me. It's not about you, okay?”

Michael bites his lip. “Okay, but… Look, something like this happen to you, I want to know. I _need_ to know.”

Alex nods,  looking away . “I… Growing up, I got so used to hiding when I was injured or in pain that I just have this instinctive reaction to keep it to myself. I couldn't risk anyone seeing it. I know it's not the same now, but even letting Kyle treat me was hard, and he had to bully me into calling you. I'm sorry.”

Michael cups his cheek to get him to look at him. “Alex,” he says.

“I'm sorry,” Alex repeats in a murmur.

“Don't apologize. I love you, okay? That's why I want to know when you're hurt. And I know there's all this history between us that makes seeing each other hurting so much harder, I get it. We can work on that.”

Alex frowns. “Work on that?”

“We don't have to do everything perfectly at the first try. We've gone from...whatever it was we had that was hurting us, to this. But we're both still messed up.”

“And we're bound to have to deal with a few...hurdles as we get closer,” Alex understands. “You're right. It...it feels kinda good, to have people who worry about me,” he admits. “Not that I want you to worry, but...I've never really had that.”

“I'll worry about you until I die,” Michael says, throwing his hands up in mock-solemnity. “How's that for a wedding vow?”

“Oh, we're talking wedding now? Isn't it a little early?”

“Depends how we see things,” Michael says. “We never actually broke up back when we were teenagers, right? So you could say we've been together for ten years.”

They didn't break up because they never got a chance to talk, Alex thinks, but he doesn't want to bring it up right now. They'll have to hash out those feelings, one day, but he's too tired for that.

“I like that thought,” he says instead. “I don't want to take it slow because I'm unsure of my feelings for you, you know.”

“I know,” Michael says. “And I know what I feel about you, too. But I like this, becoming friends and exploring, you know, us.”

“Me too,” Alex smiles. Michael leans in to kiss him again. 

“So you fought four men armed with knives with your bare hands,” Michael says when he pulls back.

“I know, it was reckless to go in unarmed and alone,” Alex hangs his head.

“No, I mean...well, yeah, it was. I'd rather you didn't do that again. But I keep forgetting what a bad ass you've become.”

Alex raises his eyebrows. “Bad ass, uh? You like that?”

“Do I−” Michael sputters, before realizing Alex is having him on. He groans and leans over to kiss him.

“Uh, I don't think I'm up to much,” Alex says, pulling back, when the kiss starts to get heated.

“Well that's a shame, because you being a bad ass seriously turns me on,” Michael says in his ear.

“Hum, I guess you'll have to hold that thought, then.”

“Now that's just mean. You want me to stay like this until you're all healed up?”

Alex pulls him in for a kiss again, keeping his injured arm out of the way. “Not necessarily,” he says. “I could just...watch.”

“Oh, so that's how it is, uh?” Michael murmurs, standing up to remove his shirt. “Don't fall asleep in the middle of the show, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! This is about as close as you'll get to smut from me by the way, that is, no smut at all. Do you want to see more of this series?


End file.
